Everything's up-to-date in Pyongyang, the capital, where all but two buildings were
destroyed during the Korean War. Resurrected from rubble, the city now boasts tree-lined
was deputy commissioner of the Peace Unifi
cation Commission. Why had I left Korea?
Would I come back? Peace was so difficult to
achieve, he said. If only the United States
would ease tensions by removing its troops
from South Korea, the Koreans themselves
could decide what to do with their unnatural
ly divided land.
He voiced his concerns, I expressed mine.
Would I be permitted to photograph these
places? I gave him a three-page itinerary that
covered the entire country. I said I'd need six
to eight weeks.
The deputy commissioner could give no
assurances. "It is rather inconvenient at this
time to extend the full cooperation you re
quested in your letters. We wanted you to
postpone your trip, but you had already
arrived in Moscow. We tried to explain the
situation through our embassy people there."
He reached for a cigarette and chuckled
a little.
"We did not think anybody would be stub
born enough to come here in spite of our
discouragement."
Another of the officials, silent all evening,
suddenly spoke. "Since you are Korean, even
though you have become a U. S. citizen, we
felt you could understand our nation bet
ter than other Western journalists. But we
must guard against any unfair publicity that
might be used as propaganda against us."
He straightened in his chair, then conclud
ed: "Since you are here, we will cooperate
with you-but, understandably, there will be
restrictions. We hope you understand our
position."
There was a moment of silence. I realized
National Geographic,August 1974
254